


out of the labyrinth

by winter_hiems



Category: The Grinning Man - Philips & Teitler/Grose & Morris & Philips & Teitler/Grose
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Character, Body Image, Canon Disabled Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Kissing, Light Angst, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Tenderness, canon blind character, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26424124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_hiems/pseuds/winter_hiems
Summary: They told Gwynplaine that Dea was dead, and that was a lie; he knows it was a lie. That doesn’t mean that the trauma of when he thought he’d lost her will go away.
Relationships: Dea/Gwynplaine | Grinpayne | Gwynplaine Trelaw
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	out of the labyrinth

He couldn’t stop touching her. 

Gwynplaine doubted that Dea had noticed this – after all, they touched each other all the time – but still, he couldn’t stop touching her. 

They held hands as they walked from the cathedral to the palace, then Dea let Gwynplaine lean on her as they made their way to his rooms. His face was still aching dreadfully. 

They ended up in a private sitting room, Gwynplaine stretched out on a chaise longue with Dea in his arms. Dea, warm and alive. 

They said little, content merely to hold each other, to kiss, to caress. The events of the afternoon had left them both mentally and physically drained. 

Gwynplaine took a shuddering breath. “They told me you were dead,” he murmured. 

Dea turned around until she was facing him. “They what?” 

“Barkilphedro. He told Angelica that you were dead, and Angelica told me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Dea’s ear. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I had nothing. That’s the only reason why I agreed to marry Josiana – I would never have done it otherwise.” 

She kissed him. “So you never loved her? You never loved Josiana?” 

“Never. She –” the next part hurt to say, but he had to be honest with Dea. “We kissed,” he said. “We kissed, and she called me an abomination, and –” Dea had gone completely tense in his arms. 

She stood sharply. “We’re going to see Josiana.” 

“Dea…” 

“We’re going to see her right now and she is going to apologise.” 

He reached out, took her hand, drew her to him gently. “Dea, it’s alright.” 

One of her hands reached out and brushed his face. “No it isn’t. It’s an awful thing to say, and you’re not an abomination, you’re not!” 

He hadn’t anticipated Dea getting angry. Or at least, not angry about this. He was surprised that she was willing to let the kiss go, but keep hold of the word ‘abomination’. “It was in the heat of the moment.” 

Her fingers tangled in his curls. “That doesn’t make it any better, Gwynplaine.” 

He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. “Please, my love. We can talk to her about it later, but not now. For the first time in my life, I know myself. And – this morning, I thought you were dead, and now you’re alive again. I just want to be with you for a while.” 

Dea hesitated for a moment before coming back to the chaise longue. She sat facing him. “Alright. But I’m going to talk to her about it tomorrow. She shouldn’t have said anything like that to you, it’s vile.” 

Moments before, his pulse had been racing, but it slowed now that Dea was in his arms again. “It’s… understandable,” he said. 

“Gwyn…” 

“It is. Just because I know what happened to my face doesn’t make it any prettier.” 

Dea kissed him soft and gentle. “It’s already very pretty.” 

“No it isn’t.” they were bickering gently now, like children, but Gwynplaine didn’t mind. 

“Yes it is.” Another kiss. “You’re very handsome, Lord Gwynplaine.” 

“You know, I’m still not used to being a lord.” 

After that there was nothing but kisses for a long time. 

Later, in the silence, Gwynplaine said, “On the day I woke up when I’d just been made a lord, Angelica told me that I had to marry. I said that I wanted to marry you. But Barkilphedro said that it wasn’t possible.” 

Dea made a small noise of contempt under her breath. Just because Gwynplaine had forgiven Barkilphedro didn’t mean that Dea liked him. 

Gwynplaine continued. “Even after Angelica said she’d rather if I married Josiana, I still told her that I… I panicked a bit. I wanted to marry you, but then they told me you were dead and…” He tightened his arms around her. She was here and she was alive and she loved him. “They said you’d burned to death,” he finished quietly. His hands were shaking. “I thought I’d lost you, I thought I had nothing. Marrying Josiana didn’t have anything to do with my feelings because, well. It wouldn’t make me happy, but it couldn’t make me feel much worse either.” If marriage to Josiana had brought him grief, then it would have been like digging in a bottomless pit. The speck of an unhappy marriage couldn’t compare to the infinity of a lifetime without Dea. 

Dea took one of Gwynplaine’s trembling hands and kissed it. She kissed the back of his hand, then his fingers, then his palm. After that, she just held his hand in both of hers until the shaking subsided. 

“Gwynplaine, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

*

It was late. He hadn’t been sure exactly how late until he passed a clock in the hallway and saw that it was well past midnight. 

Gwynplaine walked as quietly as he could, footsteps softened by carpet and slippers. He knew that he probably ought to go back to bed, but… 

But he’d woken up gasping and shaking from a dream that smelled of smoke, and he couldn’t bear to be alone right now. He needed to see Dea. 

He room was right next to his, so at least he didn’t have far to go. Gwynplaine knocked lightly on her door, murmuring, “Dea, are you awake?” 

Gwyn didn’t have to wait long in the darkened hallway. The door opened, revealing Dea in a crumpled white nightgown, her hair mussed from sleep. 

“Gwynplaine?” 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“It’s alright. Is something wrong?” 

Now that Dea was in front of him, alive and unburnt, his nightmare seemed a flimsy excuse for waking her. “I had a bad dream. You were burning and I – I couldn’t save you. I just wanted to see you. To know that you were alright.” He played with his hands nervously. 

Dea reached out until she found his arm, and gently pulled him into her room, shutting the door behind her. 

He hadn’t realised how much he needed to be held until Dea hugged him and he let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. It brought him back to reality. The nightmare was just a dream, the product of a mind that had lived through more than its fair share of trauma, but Dea was real. Dea’s head tucked under his chin the way it had been a hundred times before. He kissed the top of her head. 

“Thank you,” Gwynplaine said softly. 

Dea pulled back and looked up at him, puzzled. “What for?” 

“Being here.” 

She smiled. “Where else would I be?” 

He kissed her gently. 

Dea took his hand and said, quietly, “You’re shaking.” 

“It’s just the stress working its way through me. It’ll stop in a bit.” 

“Then you should stay with me until you feel better.” Dea was still holding his hand. She took a few steps towards the bed. 

“Stay with you?” he hadn’t shared a bed with Dea since they were children. It had felt like a degree of intimacy that he wasn’t allowed to reach with her, though nobody had ever forbidden it, least of all Dea. 

Dea stopped walking. “Only if you want to. I just thought that you might not want to be alone.” 

“You’re right,” he replied. He had not desire to return to a cold and empty bed, not when Dea was standing in front of him, making an offer that felt too good to be true. 

He kicked off his slippers and climbed into bed after her, all the time waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for something to stop him from curling up next to Dea in bed. 

Nothing happened. 

Now that they were lying side by side, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to be closer to her, but the prospect of moving closer was intimidating. Luckily, Dea had her own ideas of what she wanted to do. She shifted closer, pulling him into her arms. He breathed in the scent of her hair. 

In Dea’s arms, curled up against her warmth, Gwynplaine drifted back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Gwynplaine could have worn a dressing gown during the second part of this fic. While he was walking to see Dea he was cold because he forgot the dressing gown. The dressing gown is warm and soft and sometimes Dea steals it, even though she has her own.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome <3
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I am not making money from this work.


End file.
